


The Word Freedom

by ForestFish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biology teacher Hange, English Literature Teacher Erwin, Eren and company are students and most of them play rugby, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, History teacher Nile, Humour, Inspired by Art, M/M, Maths teacher Zeke, Multi, Music Mentions, Odd, Rape Mentions, Self-Loathing, That is all, backstories based on the canon, buddy holly mentions, ex-con Levi, i guess that's all, janitor Levi, levi is almost illiterate, murder mentions, oh and this gets hella cheesy at times and im not sorry abt that lol, oldies, revised but not beta read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29277372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestFish/pseuds/ForestFish
Summary: Levi was a high school janitor, and he was sure that he didn’t deserve happiness. Both things were fine with him.
Relationships: (if you squint) Eren/Reiner, (mentioned) Kenny/Uri, (side) Ymir/Historia, Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 110
Kudos: 1078
Collections: Eruri fics I love





	1. The janitor who didn’t deserve happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, there. This is multi-chaptered but I'm posting it all in one go. It took me the best part of a day to write this and it'll have typos and all sorts of weird shit. I wanted to get it beta'd but I was so unsure about this whole thing that I decided against it. I'm posting only because I'm tired and messy and spent quite a bit trying to make this readable. 
> 
> This was inspired by [@DoubleDumbo's/Columbo's art](https://twitter.com/ColumboDumbo/status/1357998861776805889). If you're in this fandom and ship eruri, there's a fat chance you already know their stunning art. I needed to get my head off the three-ring shitshow of my life, so, when I saw their tweet saying that we could write stuff inspired by their art, I whimsically decided to write this. I didn't want it to be too long so I gave myself a limit of 15k words and I kept it around that. I split it into 5 parts so that it would be easier to read.
> 
> So, yeah. Here it is. Hope you enjoy it some if you decide to give it a read.

* * *

Levi was a high school janitor, and he was sure that he didn’t deserve happiness. Both things were fine with him.

He rode a bicycle to school, and he was the only staff member who did that. His bike was an old black fixie in mint condition. It had a single gear, as it goes with fixies. Only once had any kid tried to fuck with his bike. Nobody knew what he'd done, but the kid became an example of good behaviour after getting out of detention.

Mrs. Bloom had given that bicycle to him when he moved into the spare room of her house. He paid rent, cleaned, and cooked for her. He did everything. She'd given him the bike as a thank you for the extra work.

Some of the teaching board had been reluctant to accept him. Dean Pyxis had had to put his foot down and insist that he was fit for the job, and he trusted him. All doubts were gone by his second month on the job. The number of kids in detention dropped to almost zero per week. Dean Pyxis had put Levi in charge of detention as well. Nobody knew what he'd allowed him to do to those kids, but whatever it was, it was legal, and it worked.

The school was always crispy clean. They'd earned an award for the cleanest school in the district after an inspection that showed that not only was everything minty, but there was also not a single thing out of place or a single scribble.

“It’s almost unnatural,” one of the inspectors had said to a proud Pyxis and a mildly befuddled Levi, “that there isn’t a single drawing of a dick in the boys’ rooms.”

"All thanks to our janitor, Levi," the dean had said proudly, patting Levi's back. That had been quite enough for the two men who'd left, somewhat uncomfortable, unsure of what to make of it.

Levi was a quiet man of little demands; however, he had put three rules in place as soon as he started working there – don't litter, don't soil, don't scribble on walls. That wasn't what he'd written; someone had swapped his sign for that one. He didn't know who'd done it, but it seemed to mean the same.

What mattered was that it worked, and the order was maintained. It'd taken Levi a long time to get to that point, and he wasn't about to let those damn teenagers fuck with him.

He arrived at school before everyone else every day. At 6:45 in the morning, he was already there, keys in hand, unlocking the door. Then he inspected the school, checking if everything was the way he'd left it the previous day, and waited for the noise and the human-shaped aggravation. He spent the day cleaning, and at the end of the day, he cleaned everything once again. He was the first to arrive and the last to leave. Or rather, he refused to leave before everyone else. His mission was clear – clean – and he was an all or nothing kind of man.

That morning he was tense and angry. The door was unlocked at the same time as usual, and he went around seeing if nobody had messed up his work, and then he sat in the cafeteria as he always did. The paper was crumpled when he pulled it out of his pocket and smoothed it on the table. It was a letter. And he couldn't understand more than half the words in it.

He sat there poring over the offending piece of paper for what felt like an eternity debating if a dictionary would be any good and decided that it wouldn't when he was caught off guard.

“Hello, Levi," someone greeted and sat before him with a cup of coffee. Levi looked up to see the man across from him, putting that paper cup on the table. His eyes darted to the linoleum surface of the table. When he saw that it wasn't leaving a mark on it, he looked back at him.

He'd seen him around. Ridiculously tall, broad shoulders, blonde, wore formal ties, white shirts, and vests. A proper one, Levi thought. He'd never noticed that his eyes were blue, but then he'd never been at eye level with this man. Now he was. He was sitting across him, at 7:32 in the morning, in an empty cafeteria, and he was talking to him.

“Hello,” Levi greeted curtly, unsure, his hands covering the letter.

“I imagine that you don’t know my name.”

“That’s right.”

"Erwin Smith," said Erwin Smith, and he smiled. Levi shifted on the bench, staring at him, "I teach English Literature."

“Right,” Levi said. Why was he telling him that? What did he want?

"Just Erwin is fine," he said. Levi's eyes were fixed on him, and he held his gaze as he sipped his coffee. “I didn’t think anyone would be here this early.”

Levi was ticked.

“I unlock the front door every morning,” Levi said, fisting his hands over the letter.

“I know. What I didn’t know was how early you did that,” Erwin said. And he smiled again. Levi gritted his teeth. Why was he smiling? What was there to smile about?

"Now you do," he said.

"You seem tense," Erwin noted, and Levi swallowed hard when he saw Erwin's eyes fall on the piece of paper. Levi didn't want anybody to see it, even though everybody knew about him. He knew where that piece of paper came from; he just didn't know what it said.

"I don't mean no disrespect, sir," Levi said, jaw hurting, and eyes fierce, "but won't you do me the favour of not talking to me?"

Erwin was silent for a moment as he sipped his coffee, his eyes still on Levi’s. Levi hated the look. Like he was being studied. He knew the look.

"I will do you that favour," Erwin said, but it was clear as day that he would not, “after you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Levi huffed. “I reckon it’s none of your goddamn business,” he said. His heart hammered in his chest, and his tightly clenched fists hurt. He regretted saying it the moment it slipped past his lips, and he saw that aggravating smile on his lips, "I'm… I'm sorry." He wasn't, but that was a teacher, and he was a janitor. A janitor who was there because the dean had given him a chance.

"No, you're not," Erwin said and put the cup down. He'd emptied it and hadn't dropped a single drop on the surface of the table, "but that's fine. I don't mean to pry, and I don't mean to be pushy," Levi's jaw hurt, "but I see that you need help, and I want to give it to you," he said, tone mild and gentle, "I was the one who replaced the sign you left with the rules, two months ago."

Levi was thrown off by that and almost forgot to be upset by this pushy man.

“You… you did that?”

“Yes.”

Levi was silent, thinking, then he found his words.

“Why did you do that?”

“It was inappropriate and had spelling mistakes,” Erwin explained.

Levi stared at him. “Inappropriate?”

“Yes,” Erwin replied, smiling.

Levi didn't know what the fuck that word meant. He wouldn't ask. Not to this guy. He knew he already thought he was better than him. He wouldn't give him more reasons to believe that, even if it was true.

“Why’s that?”

"Cuss words are inappropriate for a context such as this," Erwin explained, but Levi didn't understand what the fuck that meant. Fucking snob. He probably knew.

“What’s this context?”

“School, Levi,” Erwin said, and Levi gritted his teeth. His anger was visible, “am I the reason you’re so angry?”

"Might as well be," Levi spat and glared at him "you're fucking making fun of me.”

“I promise you that I’m not.”

“Why can’t you speak with normal words, then?”

“Normal words?”

"Words I can understand!"

Erwin blinked, and there was a look of genuine confusion in his eyes. Levi stared at him, full of anger and regret, breathing hard. Erwin's eyes fell on the sheet of paper again. Instead of pushing the subject further, when he spoke, he was not only using normal words but spoke only after apologising.

"I didn't mean to," he said, and Levi saw that it was true. Erwin pushed the cup aside, "I really didn't. Is that the problem?" he looked at the letter, "I can see that it's a letter. Does it have weird words in it?"

Levi was quiet and pondered. He didn't really have a choice, did he? There were dates on the letter, and he was afraid of them. They were too close.

"Yes," he relented, his voice lowering, "I can't understand it."

“Do you know what it is?”

“I know where it comes from, and I know there are dates,” he said, lowering his eyes, feeling the humiliation of his inability to read wash over him as he slid the piece of paper across the table. He heard Erwin grab it without saying anything. Then there was silence for about two minutes, and Erwin cleared his throat.

“You’re being called to court,” Erwin started. Levi looked up at him. His heart hammered hard in his chest, "to be the witness of a case," Erwin fixed his eyes on him, "I can see that you don’t know what case.”

“I don’t.”

“It says here that you were there when someone beat up a Mr. Julian Brown," Erwin explained, and Levi still didn't know what the hell it was about until it hit him.

“Goddammit,” he huffed, and the aggravation got worse.

“Is it serious?”

“No, it fucking isn't. I just happened to be there," Levi snapped, and then, “sorry…” he clucked his tongue and rubbed at his temples. He scratched his undercut and groaned, "how the hell…" he stopped his thought because, of course, they'd known who he was, “fucking hell.”

“Can I know what it’s about?” Erwin asked, careful. Levi looked at him and sighed.

At least he knew what this damn thing was about. "I was at the local store, some guys got into a scuffle, I stayed off the way to avoid trouble, let them go at it," he told him and huffed. His hands were trembling, and he fisted them again, "and it wasn't worth a damn because this fucking Julian wants me in court anyway. Fucking hate those places.”

Erwin looked at him as he slid the letter back. Levi was thankful for having something to do with his hands. He folded it back and held onto it.

"If there is anything I can do, anything at all, let me know," Erwin said, helpful. Levi looked at him, "I mean it."

“Why?”

“Why not?” Erwin smiled that stupid smile of his. Levi glared at him.

"You don't have to be fake nice to me. I won't do anything bad to you," Levi said, "I don't want to go back."

That damn smile was back. “Not that you could,” Erwin said, “do something bad to me, that is.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I could take you in a fight,” Erwin said, challenging.

Levi scoffed. “Because you’re bigger? Keep dreaming, choir boy,” he said and then remembered who the fuck he was talking to and the danger of the situation, "I…"

"I started it," Erwin said and smiled, winking at him. Levi felt his stomach clench, "I wanted you to loosen up a bit. You're too tense."

Levi felt like he was losing his mind.

"Look, I don't think a guy like you has ever even so much as stepped into a bloody courthouse, but these fuckers, they have ways to make you say the wrong thing. They use words, words they know I don't know, and they… they’ll throw me back in the slammer," he gulped and clenched his fists over his thighs, gripping the letter, "I have a record."

“I know you do.”

“What good can a witness like that be? I don’t trust them.”

“You think they want to frame you?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“You’re a defence witness, Levi,” Erwin reasoned, “you were there. You were likely identified from blurry CCTV footage. This Julian Brown, all he wants is that you tell the courthouse that the other guy started the scuffle.”

“I’m shit with words, _Erwin_ ," Levi said, putting emphasis on his name as he looked at him "real shit."

"I can tell," Erwin said, and then, “I can help you with that.”

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

Erwin spoke like he’d had that answer ready for a week. “Because someone who rides a fixed gear bike to do a cleaning job and writes 'you fucking pricks drop a single piece of shit on the floor and you're in detention, and if I see a dick on a wall again, I'll make you eat your own' as a warning for unruly teens, deserves the freedom of literacy."

Levi opened and closed his mouth. The dirty words sounded dirtier in the mouth of that impeccable man.

"My problem with the sign wasn't just that it had cuss words in it. It was that the words weren't written the right way."

Levi stared at him, defiant.

“Yeah?”

"Yeah," Erwin repeated with a smile, "and my job is to teach that sort of thing. I think you should learn more words and how to write them."

Levi's anger made him stand up. The bench rattled under him, and the sound echoed in the still empty cafeteria.

“You think you’re better than me, and you are, but fuck you,” Levi said, looking down at him. He shoved the folded letter down his pocket and stomped out of there without another word.

But that interaction didn’t leave his mind alone the whole day as he scrubbed floors and made sure kids were terrified enough to follow the rules.

"Yeager, if I see your sorry ass do that again, you're getting reported," he shouted at the stupid teen who'd tried to get a crumpled can of coke in the bin and failed, "your aim is shit.”

One of his friends snorted loudly, and the others stared, startled.

“Shut up, horse face,” Eren muttered to Jean, "I'm sorry, Mr. Ackerman."

Levi didn’t say anything to that and rolled the bucket away, hearing the laughter behind him get quieter and quieter until it died down.

And the thoughts returned. The courthouse in 3 days. Erwin Smith. Words he didn't understand. Going back in.

“Fuck,” he huffed as he angrily mopped the floor of the men’s room.

“That’s a naughty word,” a cheerful voice said. He looked up to see Hange grinning at him. Hange always tried to talk to him, and he avoided that. Too much energy. Too many things he didn't understand. For one, how they used any bathroom they felt like, and that they wanted to be referred to like they were multiple people. They'd explained to him that historically, that wasn't something used to refer to multiple people only. Levi could barely read the back of cereal boxes, and they wanted him to know that kind of History. Sure. Yet, his lack of understanding was only rivalled by his lack of fucks to give about it. It wasn't an issue to use they and them to refer to Hange. He knew those words.

"Yeah, yeah," Levi said and scrubbed faster, drying the floor, "I'm done here."

"One day I'll catch you off guard, and you'll talk to me and tell me all about what goes on inside that brain," Hange said in that sing-song tone of theirs that so annoyed Levi. Adult people shouldn’t talk like that.

“Bye,” Levi said and pushed the bucket outside the bathroom, hearing the biology teacher cackle. Fucking nutjob.

He stayed inside until everyone had left as usual. At 8:30 in the evening, everyone was gone, only that day, they weren't.

"Hello again, Levi," that voice again. That man. Levi spun on his heels after locking the front door of the school. He saw Erwin stood at the bottom of the stairs, smiling at him. It was dark. The sun had set at around 6, as it did that time of year. Levi saw the light brown long coat that asshole was wearing, and he saw him shimmer under the streetlights. The word beautiful crossed his mind, and he hated it.

“What are you still doing here?”

Erwin smiled. “Waiting for you,” he said. Levi trod down the stairs and stood beside him. He pretended not to care that he was there. He strode to where he'd put his bike. He didn't want to deal with this shit.

“I’m not learning,” Levi said firmly, unlocking his bike.

"Tell you what," Erwin said back as if he'd been planning that, "you teach me how to ride a bike, and I'll teach you how to read and write properly.”

Levi froze. Disbelief washed over him as he looked up at that massive, grown-ass man.

He scoffed. "You're taking the piss," he said, "no fucking way you can't ride a bike."

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Erwin said, mildly, "my mother, God bless her, was afraid I'd die if ever learnt how to ride one, so I never did. I always wanted to."

Levi stared. “You’re serious,” it was a statement now. Erwin nodded and shrugged a little. Levi couldn’t stop his lips from curling into a small smile “that’s ridiculous.”

"I know," Erwin chuckled and then smiled, "so, how will it be?"

Levi pondered and then huffed. "Right, fine, whatever, teach me words, I teach you to ride a bike," he said and pulled the bike out of the rack, "I'm free on Sundays."

“That should be perfect,” Erwin said with a smile and passed Levi a card, "my number. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

And with that, he was off to get his car and leave.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered after putting the card in his wallet.

And he rode off.

* * *


	2. The teacher with all the dreams of the world in his eyes

* * *

“You look happy, Erwin,” the very rational History teacher said that morning in the teacher’s lounge “it’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile for no reason.”

“There is a reason, Nile,” Erwin said and smiled “I’m learning how to ride a bike.”

Nile gave him a puzzled look. “A motorbike?”

“No, one with pedals.”

“What for?”

“Because I want to.”

“And you’re happy because of that?”

"Yes. I never got the chance as a kid," Erwin told him as he leafed throw his notes for the day, "so now I'm learning."

“And who’s teaching you?” Nile asked, sitting on the easy chair beside him. Hange walked in then.

“Is someone learning how to cycle?”

“That would be me,” Erwin smiled. Hange gave him a look.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Hange pointed at him and winked. "Great answer," they said and sat down with their cup of coffee, "I'm teaching sex-ed today," they grinned, and Nile made a face "don't make that face, you old grump. It's fun!"

"Sure, talking about sex with a bunch of giggling kids sounds like a lot of fun," Nile snorted and got up, shaking his head. The bell had just sounded. Erwin closed his notebook and got up as well, "God, I chose the wrong job, damn kids annoy the shit out of me.”

Hange cackled.

Erwin placed a placating hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Be patient, Nile. They're people," he told him for the millionth time. Nile scratched his goatee and clucked his tongue "people don't like it when you antagonise them, Nile."

“Yeah, you’ve said that," he grumbled, and they walked out of the room with the other teachers, "I really chose the wrong job, though."

“You’re good at it,” the maths teacher said, softly, behind them.

“Shut up, kid, what do you know? Give them a while, and you'll see how annoying they are.”

“Don’t mind him, Zeke,” Erwin said as Nile strode to his class. Zeke hadn’t been there long and was still getting used to it “he’d rather be writing his book, you see.”

"I see," Zeke sighed. He was young but had this impressive blonde beard that made him look a lot older "he doesn't like my beard."

Hange lost it at that comment.

"You probably got that right. All old Nile can grow is that sorry excuse for a goatee and that stupid moustache," they said, and Erwin gave them a look “what? It’s true, Erwin! You know it is!”

* * *

Erwin had started teaching Levi in the mornings about two weeks ago. He got up extra early to be there on time to meet him before everyone arrived. Levi got there one hour before he had to. As far as Erwin knew, the door only needed to be open at 7:45. Erwin was yet to understand why he was there so early. Levi liked to do things with time on his side, and that's what he did. That gave Erwin time to sit there with him and provide him with reading materials. Levi wasn't too happy when he saw him there the morning after their first interaction, ready to teach. He was even less happy about his own eagerness to learn.

The worst part, Levi found, was that Erwin believed in him. He had faith in him. He could see it in his eyes that he believed in him and in his capacity to learn. And that messed up his whole system.

That didn’t mean the goddamn man didn’t annoy him.

"What the fuck?" Levi blurted out when Erwin gave him a task to do at home. His attempts at clean language were long gone. Erwin liked that.

“It’s to help you practice,” he explained, mildly.

“It’s fucking homework, is what it is,” Levi said and balled his fists over the linoleum table, “I’m not one of your goddamn kids.”

“No, you’re not,” Erwin offered, and then, “they don’t fuss when I give them tasks.”

Levi glared.

“You’re saying I’m worse than them?”

Erwin shrugged. Levi grabbed the xerox copies of the short story Erwin wanted him to do a summary of. He shoved them down a plastic folder.

“Don’t compare me to those damn hooligans,” Levi pointed an accusatory finger at him, "I'm old enough to be their fucking father."

"That you are," Erwin acknowledged, "so am I, and that's why I see them as my children. They're not bad, Levi."

“Hooligans, the lot of them. I should know what a hooligan is," Levi spat, "and you have to… to…" he struggled, but they'd learned that word it was on one of the materials. He remembered it, "discipline them.” He looked up at him.

"Well done," Erwin smiled proudly. He watched the crease between Levi's brows that appeared whenever he praised him. He didn't complain about the praising, so he kept praising him.

The day of the courthouse appearance rolled around, and when Erwin offered to take him there by car, Levi had hesitated but ultimately relented. Erwin knew fear when he saw it, and he knew what Levi had been in prison for. He also knew why Pyxis had decided to trust an ex-con. The reasons were connected.

Erwin asked Levi to tell the story and reworded it for him. Levi's memory was outstanding. When he spoke, he spoke clearly and firmly, without swearing and without being caught off guard, repeating what Erwin had told him to say, verbatim.

It was the thing with illiterate and almost illiterate people – they relied almost entirely on their memory to store knowledge, and for that reason, it was better than most people's.

Erwin praised him when they stepped out of the courthouse together. Levi didn't say anything aside from a barely audible 'thank you'. And when Erwin whimsically asked him to have dinner with him, he accepted it. Erwin was more stubborn than he was and paid the bill himself.

“A treat,” he said, ignoring the aggravated crease between his eyebrows, "for speaking so well."

Levi grumbled incoherently. He let Erwin take him home in his car. Erwin didn't ask, but it was apparent that he was renting a room at someone's house. Levi thanked him again and disappeared into the house without another word.

Erwin smiled when he drove off. A raw diamond was the way he thought of Levi in his mind. A raw diamond. Levi, the raw diamond. He was drawn to that man without words and didn’t fight it. Not for a second.

* * *

Their first cycling lesson could have been worse, all things considered. Erwin could have taken a wrong fall and gotten seriously hurt, but he didn't. For one, he was fit, and then he found that Levi was, too.

"Watch what you're doing, goddammit," Levi shouted, seeing him sway on the bike that he was pushing along to help him get a feel for how you balance on it "don't look at the bike. Look ahead. Fucking hell," Levi groaned. But Erwin knew then that Levi had reasons to trust his strength when he'd provoked him and said he could take him in a fight. Erwin did calisthenics and was good at it, but Levi's relative strength seemed to be a lot better than his. His absolute strength was also commendable. Erwin, a man who weighed about 90 kg, was held by him with ease, despite the jarring size and weight differences.

It must have been quite the sight. Two men in their 30s in a park full of people, one of them very tall and the other very short, trying to get the bigger man to learn how to ride a bicycle. Erwin chuckled.

“Less laughing, more eyes on what you’re doing, dammit,” Levi complained when he had to grip him in his arms to prevent him from falling for the second time. They took a break after that one. Three is the charm, they say, and that charm would likely not be lucky.

“You’re strong,” Erwin said when they took a break on that sunny Sunday afternoon.

“I know,” was Levi’s simple answer.

“Why is that?”

“Work,” Levi said, and Erwin chuckled. He deserved the sarcasm.

"I didn't know being a janitor made you that strong, physically that is," he said conversationally, but of course, he was prying.

Levi huffed. “Listen, I may be shit with words, but I wasn’t born yesterday,” he said, giving him a sideways look, “you’re trying to get me to talk. You’re out of luck. Get up. Let’s try to get you to do this again,” he said and got up.

Erwin sighed and did as he was told. That second attempt was worse than the first. Erwin slipped off the saddle, and if Levi hadn't been holding him tightly, he'd have slammed his balls full force against the top tube. It hurt, and he winced and groaned.

"Are you okay?" Levi asked. Erwin heard the genuine concern in his voice.

“Not really,” Erwin chortled and scrunched his face as he got off the bike and massaged his crotch “why is that bit so high up? I’ve seen bikes that have it lower.”

“Not this one, you can get you one of them city bikes, with a little basket and all for your books and shit, this isn’t that,” Levi told him. Erwin chuckled despite the pain “your balls alright, then?”

“They’ll be alright, yes,” Erwin said, "thank you for holding me."

“I know it hurts,” was all Levi had to say to that. Erwin smiled and sighed, looking at the bike.

Yeah, well, he wished he’d been lying about not knowing how to ride a bike, but he wasn’t. And apparently, he was terrible at it for no reason. Levi wasn’t a bad teacher, but he wasn’t the most patient. They called it a day before Erwin could so much as balance himself on Levi’s fixie.

“Let me treat you to dinner,” Erwin asked. Levi shook his head “to thank you for the trouble?”

“No,” Levi said, and it was final. "I'm busy tonight."

"Oh," Erwin said as he unlocked his car. They locked eyes. Levi shrugged and got on his bike after pulling the saddle back down "Next time, then?"

“Not on Sunday evenings,” Levi told him as he got on the bike “bye.”

"Bye!" Erwin said aloud and waved as he rode off. Erwin sighed when he sat in his car before starting it.

Levi was a mystery he couldn't solve. So many books, so much knowledge, and he didn't know the first thing about that man. All he knew was on the records, and that was as good as nothing. It was telling of his character but not much else.

What did he do on Sunday evenings?

* * *

“This story is for kids," was the first thing Levi told him when they sat down in the empty cafeteria the morning after their first cycling lesson. The first thing after good morning, of course. He still had some manners. But he was annoyed, "it's a damn story for kids."

“It’s by Oscar Wilde,” Erwin said, mildly “he’s a famous author.”

Levi had never heard of anyone with that name and didn’t care.

"Could be written by the fucking Pope," he argued," it's for kids. It has pictures and a list of hard words that also has bloody pictures."

“Did you like it?” Erwin asked instead of instigating more anger. It was a short story called ‘The Selfish Giant’. Erwin had asked Levi to write down what he understood of it.

Levi frowned and rubbed his temples. The sheets of paper were spread between them along with his summary.

"It was weird," he said and slid the summary across the table. Erwin picked it up with a smile and looked at the messy handwriting. It was messy but readable, "and I didn't understand a lot of words…" he said, his voice low. He grabbed another paper from the pile where he'd written down the other words he didn't understand. Erwin grabbed that one too, but he focused on reading what Levi had written down. There were spelling mistakes here and there. He'd made a list instead of writing a text.

_The Selfish Giant_

  * _He was out there somewhere_
  * _Kids were playing in his garden_
  * _He got mad at the kids and shooed them away_
  * _The flowers didn’t want to come back so it was always winter there no more of the other seasons_
  * _A bunch of weird things like a blanket of snow_
  * _The kids made a hole in the wall and got back in the garden so the spring came back too_
  * _The giant liked the kids now_
  * _One kid couldn’t climb a tree so he helped this kid_
  * _The kid disappeared and the giant knocked down the wall_
  * _Then he got old and saw the kid again_
  * _The kid was still a kid for some reason and had been attacked or something and the giant died and got covered in flowers_
  * _The end_



"This is good," Erwin said with a smile. Levi gave him a look "it has spelling mistakes, which I will be correcting now, but it's good."

Erwin corrected it for him and made some annotations before passing it back. Levi looked at it and saw the grade he’d been given ‘B’. He didn’t know why it didn’t annoy him to get a grade, but it didn't. He inspected the corrections and saw that it was true – he hadn't spelled many words wrong. Then Erwin had said the wounded kid was meant to represent Jesus Christ and the wounds were the stigmata, the wounds Christ sustained on the cross. The 'weird things' were similes, metaphors, comparisons. They were meant to give you a pretty picture of something.

“Why was the kid Jesus?” Levi asked.

"Why do you think the kid was Jesus?" Erwin asked in return. Levi huffed as Erwin looked through the words he didn't know and wrote the definitions for him, "Give me your thoughts on it. I'm listening."

“You’re writing,” Levi complained.

"I can do both at the same time," Erwin said. Levi sighed. Right, whatever. He knew about Jesus. Sort of. In prison lots of guys were religious. Everyone got hold of a Bible sooner or later. Levi couldn't read that stuff, but he heard the religious guys and the priest.

"Jesus is all about love and stuff, good things and all that, and he likes kids, Jesus, so maybe…" Levi tried, unsure, feeling like he was saying something dumb and not wanting to. Not in front of Erwin. He didn't want to disappoint him, "maybe he… um, he became a kid… and let the giant go to Heaven or something for liking kids and loving them and all that? It's still weird. Why make the kid get them wounds? He could have just said: 'I'm Jesus, you did good, let's go to Heaven, you bugger'."

Erwin snorted at the last bit. He finished writing definitions for Levi. His corrections and annotations were done with a green pen, and Levi found that he liked that. He got the sheet back. Erwin smiled at him and chuckled.

"I don't think Jesus would call anyone a bugger, especially not in a story like this," Erwin started and propped his face on one hand looking over at Levi like he was the most interesting thing in the world. Levi shifted in his seat, "but I agree with your interpretation, that's I-N-T-E-R-P-R-E-T-A-T-I-O-N" he spelled it, and Levi wrote it down. Erwin waited, "yes, interpretation. It's when you look at something or read something and you have your own thoughts and ideas about it. Is that clear?"

Levi nodded as he wrote that down. It was.

"Good. I agree with you. I also think it's meant to show that the giant's goodness was rewarded by letting him go to Heaven. The white flowers should mean purity, from pure."

“Ah,” Levi nodded. He was getting into that. Erwin had a way to draw people in and keep them interested. Levi didn’t let go of his annoyance at this pushy man who couldn’t ride a bike, but he found himself wanting to be taught. Then he remembered what Erwin had told the first time they'd talked. Freedom.

He looked at the man sat across him who was still eyeing him like he was the most interesting person in the world. He ignored it as he ignored his tightening chest.

"When you sat here, the first time," he started, unsure, "you talked about freedom. What was that about?"

Erwin got his head from his hand and put both his arms with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled back on the clean linoleum of the table. He smiled, and for the first time, Levi saw a fire in his blue eyes. He saw that he was sure about what he was about to say.

"We live in a written world, Levi. A world that relies on writing and books and information on the internet," he started. Levi listened, "in a world like this, if you want to be respected and free, you need to know how to write and read."

Levi didn’t speak for a moment, letting the words make sense in his mind. Taking them for a little spin and bringing them back.

"Freedom," he repeated. His lips curled involuntarily around this guy, and he didn't like it but couldn't stop it, either "and respect. I don’t have much of that, do I?”

"In a way, you do," Erwin said, his voice smooth and tender, "but like I said, without the written word, you can't be completely free or respected," Levi rubbed at his eyes, and Erwin finished his thought, "but your memory is amazing. That comes with the lack of the written word." His smile warmed up that handsome face of his. Levi gathered the sheets of paper and the new task. He didn't complain about it this time.

“I don’t understand that,” he told Erwin. He’d stopped being stubborn about asking things.

"It means that your memory is where you keep your knowledge, and for that reason, it's better than, say, mine," he told him, and meant it "I rely on notes and books.”

Levi looked at him. He packed up his things in his plastic folder and got up.

"Thanks," he said quietly and left the cafeteria, leaving the teacher there with his empty cup of coffee and a mind full of thoughts. Not all of them pleasant.

* * *


	3. Christmas Blues

* * *

October ended and November after it. Then December meant winter break, and Levi, who'd be staying at home alone while Mrs. Bloom went over to her daughters for the holidays, realised that he didn't quite feel like having a two-week break. The most dreadful thing, though, was that he knew why.

Erwin had learnt to ride a bike in November. Took the big bugger long enough, but now he could ride it smoothly, even the fixie. He got himself a city bike with a little basket, and Levi had found it amusing. He told him he had followed his advice and asked for one of those. Levi kept getting one hour of learning every morning in the cafeteria. When December crept in, he found that he had no trouble reading or writing anymore. When he read aloud, for Erwin, it was no longer stuttered and slow, it was fluid and natural. Erwin kept giving him kids’ stories, and Levi found that he liked them. Of course, Erwin didn't know he did, but he did. He liked The Little Prince and learnt about translation.

“So, you’re telling me people translation things to other languages when they like them?”

"Translate," Erwin corrected softly. Levi wrote it down, "from the verb to translate. And yes, that's what I'm saying."

“So, this was originally in French?”

“Yes.”

“Is the writer still alive?”

Erwin shook his head and shrugged his silent apology. Levi sighed. It seemed like all he read were the words of dead people, and he didn't know why he always asked who'd written what, but he did. The answer was the same every time. Already dead. Either too old or too messed up. Wilde had been arrested. Andersen was too old. Everyone was dead.

“What did this one die of?”

"It's said that it was a plane crash," Erwin said "they never found the wreckage. He fought in the first world war."

Levi knew about the wars. Mrs. Bloom knew about the wars, and Kenny had also known about the wars. Everyone, including almost illiterate bastards, knew about the wars, and the fucked-up system, and fucked-up leaders. Illiterate bastards seemed to have a better grasp of that one, Levi found.

“What’s wreckage?”

“Comes from wreck,” Erwin said. Levi hummed. He readied his pen, “W-R-E-C-K-A-G-E”, Erwin spelled for him. Levi didn’t try to spell words now. Even if he could pronounce them, he knew that English orthography was frustrating because it made no sense. Erwin agreed with that, and it amused him. Levi wasn't so amused. He hated illogical things. So, he waited for Erwin to spell the words for him.

“Why are they all dead, Erwin?”

"I can bring you materials from living people if it bothers you," Erwin offered, smiling, "but I prefer the old, dead people."

“It doesn’t bother me,” Levi snapped and bit his lower lip “sorry…” he huffed, “it does bother me, but if you’re giving them to me, it’s because you think they’re appropriate for me,” he said, fiddling with the plastic pen in his hands. He'd learnt all sorts of words now, and he used them as much as he could. He could say that something was illogical or that it was appropriate or inappropriate. He could name frustration and distinguish it from aggravation, which he knew, from watching the Rocky films with Mrs. Bloom. She liked Stallone. Levi, not so much. Guy looked like a bit of a twit.

"That's true. That's the reason I give them to you," Erwin said, and he smiled.

“Did this Antoine man write anything else?”

“He did, but it’s not as good as The Little Prince,” Erwin told him.

Levi hummed and then thought of something. “Can you read what he actually wrote?”

“I can,” Erwin confirmed.

Levi was taken aback. “You know French?”

“I do.”

“What’s it called in French?”

“ _Le Petit Prince_ ,” Erwin said with an incredible accent, so strange coming out of his mouth. Like he was a different person. French sounded a bit funny, he decided, and the corners of his lips curled up into a smile "does it sound funny?" Erwin asked, his eyes twinkling, switching back to English.

"A little," Levi confessed and snorted, "French sounds… it sounds…" he didn't have the words for what it sounded like. Erwin helped.

“Hard Rs and a little bit affected. Some would say it sounds pretentious, but they say that about British English, some of it anyway.”

He guided Levi through the words he didn’t know, and he took notes.

“ _Prince_ ," Levi tried to pronounce it the French way, and for once, he was genuinely amused. He couldn't make that sound and wasn't bothered by it. Erwin chortled heartily, "can you say more things in French?"

Erwin mused a minute in silence and then smiled.

 _“Ce n'était qu'un renard semblable à cent mille autres. Mais j'en ai fait mon ami, et il est maintenant unique,”_ he said softly. Levi didn’t understand a word, but he liked the sound of it, and it was still a little bit funny “it’s a quote from _Le Petit Prince_.”

Levi nodded. He didn’t need to know which one. It didn’t matter.

He was upgraded to actual novels, and he read Hemmingway. Hemingway wrote simple, and Levi liked simple. It was easy to understand, even with all the Spanish. _The Old Man and the Sea_. Hemmingway was also dead. Suicide this time. He liked the book a lot, and when he gave Erwin his interpretation, Erwin was glowing with pride, and Levi's chest tightened. 

He knew then that he was attached. It was the fire in his eyes, Levi knew it. It was the honesty and the unwavering faith. It was a new and terrifying feeling that he wanted to fight with all his might. Erwin was out of his league, but the pain it caused him to think of him in someone else's arms was too much to bear.

He told them about it, and they didn’t say anything, but he knew they'd have laughed at him. He'd told them he'd never let himself get taken by anybody as Kenny had with Uri, but there he was, taken by an English Literature teacher with all the dreams of the world in his eyes.

Levi had been denied words and kindness for as long as he could remember. Erwin was giving him both for free.

* * *

“Do you celebrate Christmas, Levi?” Erwin asked him on the night of the last day of school in the parking place. Levi shook his head “Hannukah?”

“I’m not Jewish,” Levi told him. Erwin hummed. Levi took his sweet time unlocking his bike.

“Will you be spending the holidays with someone, then? Family? Friends?”

“No family or friends,” Levi said as he got up with the lock in his hands. He took even longer to put the lock in his bag.

Erwin was silent a moment, and then he said it.

"I'll also be alone," he told him softly, the cold around them thickening with the threat of snow, "so, if it interests you, you can come over, and we can be alone, _together_.”

Levi looked up to see his glowing face. His smile. A smile he’d thought of as annoying and now made his chest flutter. He clucked his tongue.

“Okay,” was the only possible reply.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

"Call me then," Erwin said softly "if it's snowing, don't take the bike."

Levi looked at him as he unlocked his car.

“I mean it,” Erwin said.

Levi nodded reluctantly. The way he cared. The way he cared _about him._

“Alright,” Levi said quietly, shoving his hands down his pockets.

"Promise me," Erwin said, fixing his eyes on him. He wasn’t smiling then.

“I promise.”

“Good, then,” Erwin smiled again and got in his car, "see you then."

“See you then,” Levi said back and watched him drive away before getting on his bike and huffing, "I was fucking taken."

He didn’t drive straight home that night. He needed to talk to them. Let them know he’d have company for the holidays against his best judgment.

* * *

Mrs. Bloom called him to wish him a Merry Christmas and a Happy Birthday, though a day early. He thanked her. The daughters wanted to talk to him to thank him for taking such good care of their mother, and he said it was no problem. She'd given him a bike. They'd laughed a little at that logic. They told him that their mother would be moving in with one of them sometime in January. Levi was taken aback by that. Mrs. Bloom had been very adamant about staying in her own house, but they made a good point. She was chronically ill, and they wanted to have her for as long as they could near them. That was fine, he said. He'd help her pack up when the time came. They told him he was free to stay in the house, and they wouldn't sell it as long as he needed it. That was kind of them, and he told them as much before the call ended.

Then he called Erwin. He’d made a promise. It was snowing.

Erwin was happy that he'd kept his promise and went to pick him up at Mrs. Bloom's house. He checked that everything was disconnected from power sockets and that nothing was on before leaving the house and locking the door. He checked the windows from the outside to check that he’d locked them properly. Then he trudged over the snow to get into Erwin’s car.

Probably to get in the spirit, Erwin had a CD on playing vintage Christmas songs. Levi recognised them at once. He mouthed the lyrics, hoping that Erwin wouldn't notice but, of course, he did.

“You like these songs?”

Levi felt like a deer caught in headlights.

“Yes,” the truth was the only possible answer.

“Just these or old songs in general?”

“Old songs in general,” Levi said. Erwin’s smile was soothing.

"We have that in common then," he told him, "I love the oldies."

“What artists?” Levi asked, unable to stop himself.

“Oh, Bing Crosby, Sinatra, B.B. King, The Drifters, The Platters, Patsy Cline,” he stopped and mused “can’t remember more names.” He said as he drove back to his place.

"Muddy Waters, Leadbelly, Etta James, Skip James, John Lee Hooker, Chuck Berry, Little Richard," Levi enumerated. He liked the oldies enough to just keep on blabbering about his favourite artists, "Robert Johnson, too, but he kicked the bucket before doing anything else, they kind of revived his stuff. I read about it online," he told Erwin who smiled.

“You’re into Blues, then?”

“Mostly, yes,” he said and shrugged. They listened to Bing Crosby’s crooning about wanting to have a white Christmas in silence all the way to Erwin’s apartment.

It was fancy and clean. Full of books also. Cosy. It felt like it hadn't always been a place where he'd lived alone. Something about it gave off the feeling that someone else had lived there. Levi didn’t ask. If Erwin wanted to talk about it, then he would. Levi wasn’t an asker.

He had a fireplace, one of the safe ones, that looks like the fire is fake. It warmed up the whole living room. He’d also set up a medium size Christmas tree that he’d decorated with golden and red baubles and tinsel and lit up with white fairy lights. There was a single present under it. Levi realised with a pang that it was likely for him. He'd also gotten Erwin something, but he was so terribly unsure about it that he wanted to bin the whole thing and pretend he was the kind of asshole who didn't give presents.

Erwin had roasted some turkey legs and cooked up a whole banquet. They sat down to eat, to the sound of the Christmas oldies, and they didn’t speak much as they ate. Levi complimented the food, Erwin thanked him with a smile, and someone sang ‘Deck the halls with boughs of holly’ softly from Erwin’s stereo as the fireplace flooded the room with its warm orange glow.

Levi wasn't much of a drinker, but Erwin convinced him to have some eggnog for the Christmas spirit. Then mulled wine. Then red wine. And then they were a little more than tipsy. They sat down together on Erwin's plush navy-blue couch.

They talked. Levi didn't remember having talked so much in a long time, and he blamed it on the alcohol. They talked about books, mostly and _then_ , then the mellow, warm mood overflooded them, and they stumbled into personal territory. The clock hit midnight, but they didn’t get up to get the presents.

Levi leant onto Erwin’s shoulder, eyes tired, brain fuzzy, and chest tight. “I hate Christmas,” he said, “hate it.”

“Why?”

“It’s my fucking birthday.”

Erwin blinked slowly down at his face.

“I didn’t know that," he said, "happy birthday."

“Yeah, very fucking happy, innit?” Levi snorted, "Born on the same day as Jesus but not with a donkey and cow, and what the fuck else was there in the nativity. No. Raised in the streets like a dog. Born in a brothel, killing my mother when they yanked me out of her. What a happy day."

He felt Erwin’s arm circle his shoulders and pull him closer. His big, smooth hand caressed his hair, soothing.

“I’m glad you were born, Levi,” Erwin said, voice hoarse and deep, “I’m sorry about your mother.”

Erwin’s hand was gentle and comforting. “Yeah…” Levi mumbled and felt his eyes sting, “why the hell did you want me here with you? Why are you so nice to me? I’m scum, I was in the slammer for murder, I…”

Erwin covered his mouth with his other hand.

"I know, I know you were in because they killed your friends, I know… you got on with the wrong crowd, wanted out, they got them. I know, Levi," Erwin whispered, but Levi heard him. He was drunk, not deaf.

"I killed the fucking rapist with my bare hands, would have killed the others," Levi said, his voice just above a whisper. He meant it. “and now, now they’re dead…” he felt the tears coming and couldn’t stop them "they're under. Under the snow. I go see them, but they're under. They don't say anything."

“I know,” Erwin said, and he held Levi and pulled him up. The silence was broken by the sound of their pain. Erwin pulled Levi to his chest and held him. Levi let his head loll to his shoulder and let himself go there, holding onto Erwin, feeling comforted and comfortable, “I’ve lost important people, too. Suddenly, he was gone. They gave him a couple months. He was gone in a couple weeks.”

“How?” Levi managed, his voice small and drunk and sad.

"Suicide. Let himself freeze to death in a blizzard."

“That fucking sucks.”

“It fucking does,” Erwin echoed and held him.

Levi was too buzzed and miserable to think, and he didn't fully grasp what was being said to him. He hadn’t let himself cry in so long that, before he knew it, he was asleep. Erwin was too drunk to do anything about it. He left the fireplace on, carefully lay Levi down on his couch, and went to find a blanket and a pillow for him. He made him comfortable and watched him curl up under the blanket. Without overthinking, he crouched, kissed his temple softly, caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears, and left to his room.

The stereo was still on, and the Carpenters were softly singing _Silent Night._

* * *

Levi was slightly hungover the next morning, but that didn't stop him. Waking up in someone else's place wasn't something he liked. But it was Erwin's place, so it was fine. And he hated that it was. He realised that he'd been made comfortable on the couch and that he'd had no dreams. The fireplace was out. It was 6am, the time he always woke up. Erwin was already up and met him in the living room, still in pyjamas.

“Oh, good morning,” Erwin greeted with puffy eyes and morning voice, deeper than usual “I was sure you’d be awake.”

“I am,” Levi rasped and pulled the blanket back “thanks… for all of it.”

"Father Christmas showed up," Erwin smiled pointing under the tree. Levi groaned and sighed, seeing him go and get it. He sat beside him and passed it over. Felt like a book, "don't worry, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I did though," Levi muttered and got up. He'd slept fully clothed, save for the shoes, that Erwin ought to have taken off for him. He got his bag and pulled out a gift neatly wrapped in red paper, "Merry Christmas," he said and pushed the gift into his hands.

It was soft. Erwin unwrapped it with the care of a child who's trying to contain his excitement. Levi's heart was hammering in his chest, and he gripped fistfuls of the blanket.

“Oh my word,” Erwin’s smile was so happy and genuine, Levi felt like dying right there and then. He pulled out the scarf. Neatly knitted and arctic-blue with golden letters. Mrs. Bloom had taught him to knit on request. It wasn't that he'd expected to ever give it to him. It was just in case. Just in case, "did you, did you knit it?"

Levi hesitated before nodding the truth, feeling a flush creep up to his cheeks and dreading it.

"It's, it's not the kind that itches, it's… they make baby clothes with that kind of yarn," Levi muttered. Erwin looked like that was the best gift he'd ever been given, "it's just a scarf," he complained. Erwin sighed and smiled at him.

Erwin wrapped the scarf around his neck. It was the colour of his eyes. “My initials are here, Levi, it’s not just a scarf, not to me,” he said, "open yours. It's not nearly as good as yours, but I thought you would like it."

Levi ripped the golden paper and saw a beautiful, hardback copy of _The Old Man and the Sea_. He liked it more than he could tell him.

"I saw that you'd liked this book, so I thought it would be nice for it to be the first book you own," Erwin said, watching him.

"I like it," Levi murmured, carefully holding the book. Like wasn't a strong enough word for what he felt, but love was too strong. You didn't say that to a book.

Erwin asked Levi to spend New Year's Eve with him, watch the fireworks from his balcony, and Levi accepted it. He didn't have a choice, but he didn't regret not having one.

The fireworks looked beautiful reflected in Erwin's eyes.

* * *


	4. Disciplining the stubborn dimwits

* * *

The new semester started, and the secret of Levi and Erwin's friendship stopped being a secret. Erwin didn't want it to be a secret. Levi found it odd and frustrating. Wasn't he embarrassed to have people know he'd befriended the weird ex-con janitor?

"I feel like I was beaten," Hange told Erwin during one of their breaks when Erwin stopped by Levi and talked to him. _Actually_ talked to him, and they saw the whole thing "I've been trying to get the little man to talk to me for ages, but he doesn't want to."

Erwin chuckled.

“It’s because you’re pushy,” Nile told them and earned a frown and a punch in the arm “ow!”

"Serves you right! I'm not pushy. I just wanted to be his friend. Why does he get to be his friend, and I don't?"

“You’re pushy,” Nile repeated and dodged the second blow “guys like him don’t like pushy people.”

“What’s the secret, then?” Hange asked Erwin.

Erwin thumbed through his notes and shrugged.

“Oh come on!” Hange exclaimed and threw their arms in the air, "At least the kids like to talk to me! They love me! Goddamn you all!" they said, but the drama wasn't serious, and they all knew it. Erwin chuckled. The bell sounded, and they filed out of the lounge to go do their jobs.

* * *

The morning was going fine. At lunch, Levi oversaw the cafeteria to maintain peace. There were never food wars, that was a stupid thing films made sound like it was normal, but sometimes there were pushes and shoves. Once some asshole had tripped a younger kid on purpose and promptly laughed, eliciting laughter from everyone around. Levi had been livid. He stomped to them, helped the small, crying kid off the floor, wiped the front of his shirt with a cloth he had in the pocket of his jumpsuit, and glared up at the bastard who'd done it.

“Detention," Levi said and pulled out his notebook and a pen, "name."

The wannabe bully had paled and was refusing to speak. None of his hooligan friends stayed beside him.

“NAME!” Levi yelled. The kid gave him his name. Levi wrote it down, “You’re getting reported. Meet me in detention at 5 o’clock,” he gave him a smile that froze him on the spot.

Detention lasted an hour, after classes. The kid became a beacon of good-behaviour and kindness after that hour. He found the kid he'd tripped and apologised.

“All I’m saying is that it can’t be good,” Zeke said to Hange. Zeke was one of the few who didn't mind Hange’s enthusiastic and effusive personality.

“Aw, is furry baby Zeke scared of the demon janitor?” they teased.

Zeke cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “My brother… he says he’s rude and uses inappropriate language around the kids,” Zeke said, matter-of-factly. Hange snorted.

"And the kids use foul language around him, too. We need someone like Levi here. He's a janitor worth 100," they grinned. Zeke mused, "that's right. He's the only person who cleans around here, save for the kitchen staff. And I know for a fact that he cleans up after they’ve already cleaned,” Hange continued, deeply amused, "I just think he's an interesting case study."

“People aren’t your little science projects, Hange," Nile scolded, "and your brother should shut up about the janitor's foul language. Tell him that if I catch him trying to throw things out the window again, I'm sending him to detention."

"Throwing things off the window?" Zeke raised an eyebrow. The bell sounded, and they left. Breaks were always dreadfully short.

* * *

Levi wasn't waiting for it to happen, but he had a feeling for those sorts of things. He absolutely couldn't stand the kids in the rugby team, those ungodly hooligans, full of themselves. The Yeager kid and his band of first years were new additions to the team. He seemed to be good at it, and the Ackerman girl with the piercings and the dark clothes was incredible. Their little blonde friend was on the team, too. His job was warming the bench and not much more than that. Kirstein had also made the team, but he avoided conflict, which was good for him.

Yeager, though, was a rowdy moron who'd decided that it was his job to annoy the sophomores and the seniors. They put up with him because his anger was good for the game, but that burly kid, Braun, was a breeze away from blowing up and kicking his ass.

Levi was right about that one. It didn't happen in the pitch. They took the argument outside of the shower rooms, and Levi thought that Yeager had a fucking screw loose, messing with a guy two years older than him and twice his size. The scuffle broke out by the doors to the shower rooms. Yeager threw the first blow, Levi saw as much, but Braun countered, as one does so they were both in trouble, regardless of who'd started the fistfight.

By the time Levi stomped towards them and yelled for them to stop that shit at once, both boys were roughed up, and Braun had Yeager pinned to the floor. Levi only intervened because he knew Yeager didn't stand a chance, and Braun could seriously injure him. He plucked the brawny 17-year-old off the angry 15-year-old and kneed the back of his thigh to make him lose balance. He held him in a chokehold as he uselessly struggled to keep going. Ackerman held Yeager back in a similar chokehold as he flailed like an idiot in her iron grip.

Levi felt Braun go slack and struggle less, so he let go. The boy gasped for air and massaged his chest, stooping forward. Ackerman let go of Yeager, and he dropped to his knees, breathless.

"What the fuck, Mikasa!?" Yeager gasped. Kirstein smacked the side of his head, "What the fuck, Jean!?"

"That's what I want to ask you," Levi said, voice icy and his arms crossed, standing between the two assholes "what the fuck do you think you're doing, assholes?"

A circle had formed around them, as it does whenever there’s a fight, and nobody said a word.

“So?” Levi demanded.

Braun pointed at Yeager. “He started it!”

“You called me a slur!”

Levi looked at Braun, who was red from the effort to breathe. Levi didn't know what the fuck a slur was, and he hated it. Fuck. He remembered Erwin and hated it even more.

“What did you call him?” he asked, hoping they wouldn’t say more words he didn’t understand.

“He’s a snowflake! It wasn’t a damn slur!”

“It was!” Yeager shouted.

"What the fuck was the slur, then?" Levi asked, losing what little patience he had left, "Go on."

"Pansy! He called me pansy!" Yeager exclaimed, fisting his hands. Now, that was a word Levi knew. He snorted. Some of the kids looked at him. There were misunderstandings in the air, and for a minute, it seemed like he'd side with Braun. But of course, he wouldn't.

“Both of you, detention. 5 o’clock. No need for your names. I know damn well who you are," Levi said, and without another word, he left.

Reiner Braun had paled, and Eren Yeager looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head.

* * *

“It was nice knowing you, Eren," Jean told him as their last class rolled by, way too quickly for his liking. It was English Literature, and while those classes passed quickly, this one was breezing by. His face and chest and fists were sore, and his brow was busted, covered with a plaster. Mr. Smith had grouped them in fives, and he was sitting around a desk with Jean, Sasha, Mikasa, and Connie. Mr. Smith let everyone pick their groups. He wouldn't exactly call Jean his friend, the dude annoyed him to no end, but it was close enough. They were to analyse Hemmingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls, each member focusing on one specific aspect of the narrative. Eren wanted to analyse the death of the main character because he felt like a dead man.

“Shut your trap,” Eren hissed at him. Jean snorted.

Sasha shook her head solemnly. "That was a stupid move, Eren," she said and sighed, "nobody comes out of the detention the same…"

"Nothing illegal is going on there," Mikasa said, voice flat yet reassuring, "so all you have to do is suck it up."

Connie shivered. “Nobody talks about what happens there,” he said. The soft sound of someone opening snacks reached his ears, and he glanced at Sasha. Her hands were under the table "what's that you got there?"

“Nothing,” she said quickly. Connie squinted at her and sniffed.

“Chips Ahoy,” he accused. She gave him a sour look.

"They're mine. I'm hungry!", she hissed, barely above a whisper.

“Share or I’ll tell,” Connie threatened. Their friends knew what was happening. Nobody else was interested in Sasha’s biscuits.

“Bastard, snitch, _scoundrel,_ ” Sasha grunted and reached the package so that he could take some.

Connie smiled the smile of the victorious. “Thank you, friend.”

Jean checked the time on his wristwatch and grinned at Eren, whose melanin seemed to want to flee from the situation as badly as he did. He looked sick.

Mikasa reached a hand over the table and placed it on his. "It'll be fine," she assured him. Her hand was warm and steady; his was freezing and trembling.

“Fuck that Reiner,” Eren muttered, gritting his teeth and pulling his hand away as the bells tolled for him.

* * *

Detention was held in the basement, where Levi kept the cleaning supplies and all his tools. Eren met Reiner in the empty hallway at 5 o’clock when they were both done with classes. They walked together but keeping their distance from one another. Both had their hands shoved down their jeans’ pockets, and their eyes were on the floor.

They moved with the heavy step of men walking to the gallows. Neither spoke. Their jaws were locked. Eren gulped as he reached a brave hand to the doorknob and turned it. Of course, it didn't creak. All hinges were oiled in that school. They went down the dimly lit staircase that led to the detention room, and it was Reiner's brave hand that knocked on the door.

"Come in," Levi's voice called, and Eren gulped loudly. Reiner glanced at him. Eren looked up, eyes terrified but still angry.

They went in. The room had no windows. It had four old timber desks perfectly aligned, each with a pair of chairs behind them. The surfaces were shiny, and it smelled heavily of cedarwood oil in there. There was a cupboard at the back and a single chair at the front, overseeing the room. There was an analogue clock on the wall behind that chair and a bottle of water beside it.

"Sit down," Levi said, pointing to one of the desks. They moved to sit on different ones "did I point at two different desks, morons?"

“No, sir,” Reiner said, stiffening.

“We’re, we’re meant to sit together?”

“Obviously,” they didn’t move. Levi lost his patience. “Sit the fuck down!” Levi shouted. Eren flinched, and they carefully obeyed his direct order.

They were sat there for five minutes that ticked and ticked on the wall, maddening. Eren said his prayers in a quiet whisper in a language that wasn't English. Reiner realised he understood it.

“What the hell is that you’re saying under your breath, Yeager? I can bring you in every fucking day of the week if I want,” Levi threatened.

"Sorry, sir!" he exclaimed, terrified, "I was, I was…" his voice became a shameful whisper, "praying."

Levi’s eye twitched.

“Right,” Levi said and made his way to the back of the room. He pulled out a long flexible pole. The two boys’ eyes widened. No way, that wasn’t legal! Were they getting lashed!?

Then Levi pulled out what looked like yoga mats. The boys were confused as he brought the mats and the pole to the front of the room. He laid them on the floor, perfectly aligned, and then straightened up with the pole in his hands.

Levi smacked his palm with it, and the sound echoed. “Right, this is how this shit works for belligerent fuckers like you,” he started. They stiffened, staring, "you say good things about one another. If I don't think they're good enough, the rascal who messed up gives me 100 press-ups, and the other gives me 50."

“Good, good things?” Eren tried, confused. Both wondered if the punishment was always like that or if Levi had to work creatively.

“Did I fucking stutter?”

“No, sir!” Eren exclaimed.

"You first, then, since you threw the first blow," Levi's eyes were barely a slit, and they had a bad feeling.

“But he was the one-“ Levi didn't let him finish. His smile glinted sadistically.

“100, Yeager. Now!” he shouted. Eren stood up, almost crying, and Reiner stood up after him, glaring. Levi looked up at him.

“You’re thinking bad shit about him. That makes 100 for both of you.”

“But,” Reiner stupidly tried.

"150 each!" Levi bellowed, "On the mats, both of you! And I’m giving you the cadence!” the pole slashed through the air and smacked against the floor. They gasped and dropped on the mats.

They were fit sportsmen, sure, but they didn't have to do that many even in rugby practice. Reiner was fitter than Eren, mostly because he was older and had more practice. He got the furthest with the most ease, but he was struggling. Eren was soaked in sweat before he'd reached 50, which was more than their coach had them do. He kept going, though. Reiner had a feeling that if he dropped, something horrible would happen.

“ _Mach weiter!”_ he gasped breathlessly. Eren’s muscles were screaming, but he kept going, out of fear alone. Then he heard the encouraging words in his native language and glanced at Reiner, who was also glancing at him " _bleib stark, Eren,”_ he gasped mid-press-up.

It was like being in the military with a particularly evil sergeant.

Eren moved his head a little, as he could, and kept pushing it and pushing it. Levi didn’t comment on the language they were using because he knew that they were doing what he’d wanted them to do in the first place.

The two outstanding teenagers surpassed Levi's expectations. He'd expected them to reach maybe 70, being sportsmen and all, but they made it to the 150. Under his cadence, which sure enough was reasonable, but they shouldn't have been able to do that. They were stubborn kids, and he respected stubborn people. They collapsed like wet rags when they were done and could barely move. Levi grabbed the bottle of water and passed it to Reiner, who managed to catch a bit of his breath first.

"Drink," he directed. Reiner's hands were trembling when he sat down and grabbed the water. The mats were soaked in sweat, and so were the two boys. Eren was yet to sit down, lying on his stomach, breathing with difficulty. His lungs ought to be on fire. Reiner drank some of the water with effort, and it helped.

“Eren,” he called. Eren opened one eye, and Levi clucked his tongue. Kids like this weren't supposed to be so recklessly stubborn. Maybe the fear had been too much. Maybe he'd had something to prove. But the fact remained that he was just a 15-year-old kid. Levi was going to help the kid, but Braun was on it already. He saw, with some pride in his own work, how he put the bottle aside and put his arm over Yeager's back and helped him sit down, "alright?"

Yeager nodded, but he wasn't. Braun grabbed the bottle with steadier hands and helped him drink from it. He looked better after a couple good swigs of it. Braun emptied it and put it aside. Then he helped Yeager to his feet, one arm around him.

“You’re done here,” Levi said to them as they stood there, trembling but waiting “you’re strong kids, well done," he offered and meant it. The boys' looks of incredulity spoke for themselves "don't let me catch you fighting again."

"Yessir," Braun said and helped Yeager out of the room. Levi sighed when he heard the door upstairs close and rolled the mats. They needed to be washed. He went to get a mop and a bucket to wipe the floors and then took the mats to the laundry room. He washed them in a washbasin before hanging them to dry and leaving the room.

He did the end of the day cleaning next, and then, at 8:30, he locked the front door.

“Hi, there, Levi,” Erwin’s voice called.

"Hi, Erwin," Levi greeted back, joining him at the bottom of the stairs.

They walked together to the parking area. “You did a number on those boys,” Erwin said. Levi looked up at him.

“You saw them?”

"I did," Erwin confirmed, "Reiner was holding Eren upright.”

“Did my damn job, then, buggers had been fighting,” Levi grunted. Erwin’s hearty laugh filled the chilly night air and formed a cloud of vapour above them.

“What did you have them do?”

“Press-ups.”

“How many?”

Levi huffed as he unlocked his bike.

“I thought they’d give up by the 70th," he told him, and his smile told him that he already knew they'd gone further, "but they pushed it to make the impossible 150 I asked for."

“Oh dear,” Erwin chuckled and stood there in silence. Levi shifted from one leg to the other, clutching the lock.

“Anything you want to say?”

"Yes," Erwin said softly, "but I'm nervous."

Levi looked up at him.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t easy, you know?”

Levi was genuinely lost.

“What isn’t?”

“I want to ask you if you’d like to have dinner with me,” Erwin asked, looking at him.

Levi was even more confused.

"We've had dinner before, Erwin. What the fuck are you nervous about?"

Erwin’s cheeks turned a funny shade of pink under the streetlights.

He chuckled and sighed. "I feel like a kid," he said, "I don't know how to do this anymore. It's been too long. Why don't you take my invitation, and we’ll talk then?”

Levi gripped the lock.

“When?”

“Tomorrow night at my place? It’s Saturday.”

Levi nodded. Erwin breathed heavily and smiled.

“Good then. Call me if you need a lift.”

"Won't need a lift. It's not snowing or raining," Levi said and hopped on his bike. His chest was tight, and his heart hammered inside it "see you then."

"See you then!" Erwin said, waving him off.

What the hell was he on about? What could he want to talk about that he couldn’t say right there?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This is a kind of interlude and it's here mostly because I thought it was funny. Maybe it, maybe it's not. I still think it is.)


	5. The man who deserved happiness

* * *

Levi was busy the whole of Saturday, helping Mrs. Bloom pack up. Levi had been right about her not wanting to leave her house. What she said to him hurt.

"I'd love to have died right here. My house. Where I was happy," her voice was small and raspy. She had a lung condition. Levi carried her around. She was in a wheelchair, and the house was anything but adapted for that, and she weighed very little "I'm happy you came along, dear Levi. You let me say goodbye to it properly, you know?"

Levi was now worse with emotions than he was with words. At that moment, he found that he was terrible with both. This woman had let him in her house, hadn't asked where he'd come from, hadn't asked anything at all. For all he knew, she didn't know he was an ex-con. She didn't know he'd been in the clink for murder. She didn't leave the house, and all her friends were dead. Levi did all her shopping, and he cooked and cleaned for her. The bike she'd given him had belonged to her husband, who had been an athlete way back when. Levi was handy, so he'd fixed it himself and brought it back to what it had been. Her joy when she saw what he'd done with it had made her cry, which had confused him. Happy tears, she'd told him. Happy tears. Those weren't the tears she was shedding now as he carefully packed up all her memories and hauled them into the back of a van. One of her daughters was there with her husband to get her. She'd requested that they stayed outside and let Levi do the packing. Levi was happy with that. He hadn't liked the man's attitude. Like he wanted to drive out of there as soon as possible. Like he didn't even want to be there.

At last, the boxes were all in the back of the van, and all that was left was old furniture that nobody would want. The house was empty. Levi didn't have many belongings, and the little he had was in the room he'd rented. He stood with her in the empty living room, in complete silence, save for her heavy breathing and occasional sobs.

"The worst thing about growing old, my dear," she whispered, at last, patting her eyes with permanently trembling hands, "is that you don't always get senile. I wish I'd gotten senile. I really do."

Levi bit his lower lip.

"Thank you for letting me live here, Mrs. Bloom," he said, voice quiet, strained "it was an honour to meet you. You're an incredible woman."

“Lean in, my dear,” she said to him, smiling through the tears, “let me kiss your cheek goodbye.”

Levi didn't know what a mother's kiss felt like, but when her old lips touched his cheek, he knew.

His eyes blurred when she held his cheeks with her wrinkled, shaking hands. He put his hands over hers and held them, gently pressing his forehead against hers.

"I'll remember you forever, Mrs. Bloom," he said, voice small, contained, "I won't forget your kindness for as long as I live. I'll take good care of Mr. Bloom's bike."

She smiled then, a genuine smile, and someone opened the door. She let go of him, and he straightened up, circling the wheelchair as he wiped his face and pushed the chair into the hall. It was her daughter, and she saw the emotions hanging heavy in the air.

"I know you love this house, mum," she said with a little apologetic smile, "but we want you with us."

"I know, sweetheart, I know," Mrs. Bloom said as Levi pushed her chair. Her daughter motioned to do that for him, but he gripped the handles.

“Let me do it,” he requested firmly. Her daughter nodded. Levi pushed the chair out of the house and carefully pushed it over the step. He was the one who picked her up in his arms and put her in the backseat of the van and he was the one who folded the wheelchair and put it in the back with all the boxes.

Then he stood there beside the window seeing her cry and smile and wave. He waved, and he forced himself to smile too. Her daughter waved at him and thanked him again. They were off then. And that was it.

That was all there was to it.

* * *

Levi sat in the empty house for hours staring at the wall. He had dinner with Erwin later, and he had thought that helping his landlady pack up would be nothing to think about. Yet, it was. He couldn't stop thinking about it. How could someone be plucked from their home like that? It'd been out of love that her daughters had wanted her to move away, but what about her feelings? People should be allowed to die where they wanted to die. That's what he thought. Levi was there, and he wouldn't be going anywhere. He'd gladly have kept taking care of her. He was young enough and strong enough to take care of her. But he wasn't family, he reasoned, he wasn't. But what the fuck was family anyway? He'd never had blood siblings, but Isabel and Farlan had been his siblings. Family to him was the people you loved and loved you. Family didn’t have shit to do with blood. His tears were heavy and bitter and silent, and he didn’t stop them. He let himself feel loss once again. He let himself feel angry at the unfairness of the world.

* * *

Levi parked the bike in Erwin's garage under his instructions, and he rang him up. Levi hadn't put on any fancy attire, just a normal pair of jeans and a sweater under a winter jacket. Levi was in a dress shirt and jeans when he met him at the door. It smelled nice in there, and it was warm. The fireplace was on.

Then there was this man who'd taken him. This man who'd given him words, respect, and freedom. Levi could read anything now, and nobody screwed him over anymore. Erwin Smith was his light. Levi wanted to be with him, he wanted to follow his light to the end of the earth.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Erwin said as they ate the meatloaf he’d made for dinner. Levi had complimented the food, but he'd been overall quiet. He looked up to meet his eyes "anything bothering you?"

Levi shook his head, but that was a lie. He just didn't want to talk about it. Not then. Maybe another time.

They had dessert. Erwin had baked an apple pie, and it was amazing.

"My parents are American, you know?" he said conversationally, seeing that Levi was enjoying it, "Apple pie and white picket fence family, that's what I had," he told him mildly. Levi looked at him "it's a stereotype about Americans. The American dream."

“Ah, I know about that one,” Levi acknowledged as he forked more pie with cream, “it’s really nice, this.”

"I'm glad," Erwin said and sighed softly, "something's definitely bothering you," he sipped on red wine. Levi sipped on his own wine and shrugged, "it's fine if you don't want to talk about it."

Levi was silent. He really didn’t.

"I don't. Maybe another time."

"That's fine," Erwin repeated, voice mild. He sighed, pushing the plate away and getting up to collect the dishes. Levi was quicker and didn't let him do that, "I'm the host, you're the guest."

“I’m not a freeloader,” Levi said as he collected the plates and cutlery “you cooked, I clean. That’s my job.”

"This isn't school," Erwin said as Levi carried everything to the kitchen "it's not your job. This is my house, and you're a guest."

“Define guest,” Levi requested as he put the dirty dishes in the sink and opened the tap, rolling back his sleeves.

Erwin sighed. “Someone who has been invited to someone else’s home,” he said. Levi glanced at him as he started washing up.

"Nothing there about being a useless freeloader," he said as he washed up. Erwin already knew he'd go there. Levi was a very logical man, and he took many things literally. He was especially good at finding holes in definitions, simply because most definitions required previous knowledge to be understood.

Erwin leant against the counter beside the sink and sighed. "It's an unwritten rule," he tried. He'd invited him over to tell him what had been eating at his heart and soul, not to teach him.

"Unwritten rules are as good as no rules," Levi countered, "if it's not written, then it's as good as nothing. That's why learning to read and write is important, isn't it?" he glanced up at him and saw the eye roll. It made him smile. He liked to beat Erwin at his own game.

Erwin relented. "You're right, of course," he said, "I have a dishwasher though," he pointed at it "you could have put everything there."

"Not as good as handwashing," Levi countered, and sure enough he was done. He was quick, and the most amazing thing was that he did it perfectly, "there. Done. Your dishwasher wouldn't do it this well."

Erwin sighed.

“Can I have you now? Will you give me the pleasure of your company in the living room?” he asked. Levi looked up at him as he dried his hands. His heart hammered in his chest, but he nodded.

“Sure.”

Erwin popped a CD on the stereo. Buddy Holly. The man who'd died and taken the music with him.

 _Everyday_ was the first song that came on.

Levi sat beside Erwin on the couch and was glad for the red wine he was being offered because he was getting nervous about that entire situation. He’d had a long day. Too many emotions. Too many words he’d wanted to say but couldn’t. Too many of a lot of things.

And then there was Erwin, the English Literature teacher, who'd taught him to write and who'd given him freedom. The man who'd gently reached into his chest without knowing and got a hold of his metaphorical heart and wouldn't let go. Or rather, Levi wouldn't let him go. He'd hold him there for as long as he lived.

"Levi," Erwin said after draining his third glass of wine, "I wanted to talk to you."

“You said that," Levi said, "and you were really weird about it, saying it wasn't easy and whatnot."

Erwin was silent. Levi didn’t like it.

"What is it, then?" he demanded, "What the fuck can be so difficult to say that a man full of words can't say?"

Erwin chuckled and looked at him in silence. Then, “What do you feel about me?”

Levi was caught off guard with that one.

“What kind of question is that?”

“An important question, I’m afraid,” he said, voice soft and uncertain. Levi emptied his own glass and put it on a coaster on the coffee table.

Levi knew it was important, alright. It was important because the answer was fucking difficult.

“That’s a fucking difficult question,” he said, not hiding his aggravation.

Erwin was silent, looking at him. “It’s difficult?”

“It is, dammit,” Levi spat.

“Can’t you elaborate?”

Levi was buzzed and angry and what he did next wasn't so much a whim. It was an answer. An answer without words, something he was good at. He grabbed Erwin's face and kissed him on the lips, hard and fierce.

Erwin needed a moment to process it. He closed his eyes and put his arms around him. He pulled him up to allow for a better angle. It was crazy how you could be almost 40 and a kiss from the right person could have you feeling like you’d never known what kissing was.

They kissed long and deep, and warm, and noisy. When they broke apart, their lips were reddened and swollen. Levi opened his eyes and looked at his.

"There's your answer," he said. His heart was drumming hard in his chest, and he had his answer too. It wasn't one-sided, "happy?"

And Buddy Holly was singing his _Words of Love_ , like an asshole.

"Ecstatic," Erwin whispered against his lips and kissed him again before finishing his thought, "I want you, Levi. I want you to be mine."

“I already am,” Levi said. It would have sounded a lot more romantic if there wasn't a hint of bitterness in his tone, "I swore I'd never be taken, but I was. It's always people like you that have people like me taken," the words were tumbling out of his mouth. He didn't care to stop them, "people with all the dreams of the world in their stupid eyes. Idealists. You always fucking take us."

Erwin's smile was warm and full of unbridled, unabashed affection, and he held Levi in his arms like he was his whole world.

“What would ‘us’ mean?” Erwin asked.

“Us sour bastards with nothing but darkness inside us,” he said, "what the fuck do you even see in me? I bet your previous man was all sorts of light like you are."

"My previous man committed suicide," Erwin said softly. Levi regretted bringing it up, but Erwin shoved the subject aside, “and I thought I’d never love again. Then I met you. So much energy. So much bravery. So much strength," he said and smiled, "and you taught me how to ride a bike, and you let me teach you…" he paused "I'm blabbering," he said, "I blame the wine."

"Keep blabbering, then," Levi said. He was mildly drunk, and his chest was full. He leaned in for another kiss, "keep giving me all your words. For as long as I live."

“That’s what I want, Levi,” Erwin said, smiling, "that's all I want."

He spent the night there, and they made love, pleasantly drunk and in love. Levi knew then the difference between having sex and making love, and that was the first time someone made love to him.

The next day, in the evening, he took Erwin to meet his family in the graveyard. Erwin was honoured to meet them and promised them he'd make Levi the happiest man in the world if he let him.

Levi wanted to tell him that was his mission. He realised that if it was to be a relationship, then it was a mutual mission, and he was happy with that.

And for the first time in his life, he felt like he deserved the happiness he was being offered.

* * *

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I'm sure Mr. Smith and Mr. Ackerman are an item," Eren said to his friends. They didn’t believe him, but he'd seen them. He'd seen them with his own two eyes. He'd seen them kiss when they thought nobody was watching. He'd seen Mr. Smith lean over, and Mr. Ackerman, to his absolute shock, stood on the tips of his toes to kiss him before giving him a look that made him smile warmly.

"Sure," Jean scoffed, "I'd rather believe you and Reiner are an item than believe your fever dream.”

Eren punched his side, and he gasped, glaring.

Connie chortled heartily and stole some chips from Sasha’s open bag. She complained half-heartedly.

“Are you sure about that, Eren?" Armin asked, a bit anxious about skulking around on what felt like a pointless chase. Everyone had come along, even Jean, if anything to call him crazy. It was Valentine's Day. Jean had been sulking all day. He hadn't gotten a single letter or gift. And to add insult to injury, Mikasa had thanked him for the box of chocolate with the flattest tone in the world and told him she had a nut allergy, so she couldn't even eat them. Armin had taken them and given Jean a friendly pat on the back. Even Armin had gotten a letter. Hell, even Eren had gotten something but refused to share what it was or who it was from. Mikasa had gotten a ton of stuff and promptly binned most of it. She’d shared the chocolate.

They turned a corner, and Eren thought that was it, but no. It was just Historia and Ymir, making out in a nook between the lockers like it was nobody's business. Which, granted, it wasn't.

“Wrong queers,” Jean said, and his cheeks got slightly red as they carefully stepped back and way when they saw Ymir open one eye and glare at them “shit, let’s beat it.”

“Just let it go, Eren,” Connie said, still snacking on Sasha’s snacks much to her dismay, "maybe you just…"

“Shush!”

They could hear Mr. Smith's voice coming from around the corner, and he was talking to someone who sounded both annoyed and embarrassed.

“It’s them!” Eren whispered, and he spread his arms to stop his friends, "We can't go in all at once, let's… um, let's just peek, a little."

That's how he ended up kneeling, and Mikasa and Armin leant over like idiots, sneaking a peek at their teacher and their janitor while their friends held the ones on the top to prevent them from falling comically in the middle of the hallway.

Mr. Smith was holding a beautiful box of chocolates and smiling at a very flushed Mr. Ackerman who was looking up at him.

"It's St Valentine's Day, Levi," Mr. Smith was saying.

"You could have waited for later, couldn't you?" Mr. Ackerman scolded, but he took the box and tucked it inside his blue jumpsuit "Thank you… I'll give you mine, later," he said, and there was a hint of annoyance, but the affection overtook their demon janitor. The kids peeking from the corner almost toppled over one another when they saw him stand on his toes and press a kiss on Mr. Smith's lips. They scurried to get out of sight when they saw Mr. Ackerman look in their general direction.

“Eren was right," Armin said as they all dashed out of there as fast as they could, "what was that you were saying about Reiner and Eren, Jean?”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 1.
> 
> [Part 2: Blue and Red Devils](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29363559/chapters/72130287). The second chapter is explicit.
> 
> [Final part: The Way Home (Ererei)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29537229/chapters/72580005)


End file.
